#not a combo i would have expected but hey as long as it's working for them

[kariachi]

Random housing info for my Plumber Brat shit

The Armstrongs live in a 4-story building, with their butchershop and apartment making up the first and second floors respectively. Both are about 3000 sqft (~280 sqm) with the retail space of the business taking up about the front third of the floor space. The apartment is 3 bedroom 1 bath and only really accessible via a staircase on the first floor. In all honesty it's a little small for their needs with Manny and his mom both living in it, Tetramand take up a lot of space and any Manny's smaller size cuts from requirements is more than surpassed by his mom's needs.

The third story takes up about 2400 sqft (~223 sqm) and consists of three apartments and a public toilet, while the fourth story is taken up by a take-away restaurant and an Erinaen 'hawker center' taking up about 1800 sqft (~167 sqm) together.

The Wheelses, meanwhile, live on the third floor of a 3-story building, the third story of which takes up about 2000 sqft (185 sqm) with three apartments. Theirs specifically is about 800 sqft (~74 sqm) with 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. Actually a decent size for a human, an Erinaen, and a hybrid, but once you throw a Kineceleran into the mix... Those fuckers also need space, though thankfully less than Tetramand do.

The first floor of their building is about 2500 sqft (~232 sqm) and consists of an convenience store, a public bath, and a public bathroom. The second floor is the same size square footage and split between 2 apartments, and there's also 2 other apartments on the third floor, one larger than their own and one smaller that's owned by one of Kyxan's siblings and their wife and kids.

The Albrights, meanwhile, live outside Geilla Bohln on acreage owned by Jessie's parents. Their place is a 1-story, 1300 sqft (~121 sqm) farmhouse with 3 bedrooms (one of which is part of the attic) and 1 bathroom. Not especially unique compared to all the other buildings, no, but they do have their own barn, crops, livestock. Makes up for having seven people living there, between Kay and Jessie, four kids, and Kay's mom. Also they have a nice little porch which is always fun to have.

Their nearest neighbors are Jessie's family, who own and work a good chunk of the agricultural acreage of their town, mostly working in a small variety of crops, eggs, and beef.

The Validus family moved into a 2 bedroom 1 bath home, 1-story and also about 1300 sqft (~121 sqm) after Victor got fired. Prior to that they'd had a slightly larger place, like they'd had a guestroom it was amazing, but it was also in Ben's school district and in the name of not getting into more trouble for having the audacity to let Elena be in the vicinity of Max's golden grandchild they picked up and went. The new place did have a little chicken coop in the backyard though, so they got some chickens out of the deal at least.

The Morningstars should not be legal, and that started before Mike turned to cannibalism. Between his mother remarrying and his being arrested Mike was living in the family's guesthouse, a 2-story, about 8000 sqft (~743 sqm) building with 5 bedrooms and 4 baths. It sits on a little over 2 acres of land alongside the about 16,000 sqft (~1486 sqm) main house, a 2-story with 8 bedrooms and 8 baths. Again, illegal. Where he was staying when not imprisoned post this period is, wibbly.

The Levins, here consisting of Kevin and technically Argit, are divided among multiple properties. Argit it's near impossible to keep track of, he spends more time off-world and other such, but they share a 1 bedroom 1 bath apartment in Geilla Bohln. It's about 800 sqft (~74 sqm) in a 4-story building.

The first 3 floors of the building are all housing, with 1 home on the first floor, 2 on the second including Kevin and Argit's, and 2 on the third. The fourth is only about 1000 sqft (~93 sqm) and is entirely taken up by a little craft supplies shop.

Kevin specifically also has a secondary apartment in Bellwood on the sixth floor of a 7-story building. 1 bedroom, 1 bath, this time only 600 sqft or so (~56 sqm) but this one has a balcony, parking included, and came furnished. Not well furnished, but he's not exactly picky. There's 5 other apartments on that floor, another 1 bedroom and a handful of 2 bedrooms.

He specifically is also the one with the most Complicated relationships with his neighbors, no matter which town he's in.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Clownfall: the Election Cometh

It's a long one, lads. Buckle up, get comfy, but the circus is in town for its final run. Ambient music as you read can be found here or here, take your pick. Get popcorn. Get snacks and water and a blanket.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Wednesday 22nd May

7.12am

Household favourite and queen of our hearts Pippa Crerar of the Guardian (her who did the investigative journalism that revealed PartyGate to the world) reports that UK inflation fell to a mere, paltry 2.3% in April.  The lowest level in three years!  Huzzah! But … still smaller than the decline that was expected. 

Nonetheless, Rishi Sunak and Jeremy Cunt whoops I'm so sorry I meant Cunt haha whoops said it again make a big fuss about how brilliant this news is, and how it shows that they are Good At Maffs after all that trouble with Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng, who defined themselves as being Good At Maffs and then obliterated the economy in a single day.  Remember that! Good times. But hey, look, THIS PM/Grand Vizier combo are great at this! Inflation has fallen! Stop looking at the predicted rate! A fall is still a fall!

Crerar wonders whether people will actually feel better off, though – prices and mortgage rates are still high, after all. Food for thought.

10.04am

Jeremy Hunt is asked on the Today programme whether Sunak will call a general election.

Now, the logic here is that the government is likely to do better in an election if the economy’s improving; which, SunakCunt are now shrieking from the rooftops. So, is now the time? It's a win, and they've had so few of those, but historically people really do like to fall for the right wing = better economy myth... 

BUT – the Tories are doing so very badly in the polls.  Journalists favour the idea of an autumn election.  Tories do better when the weather’s bad, because fewer people go out and vote.

 “Well that’s a matter for the prime minister, it’s not a matter for me,” says Cunt. 

... Well.  Not ruling it out, then? Diddorol.

10.30am

It's Wednesday, aka the date that Tory cabinet ministers have their weekly meeting. They are duly sent the agenda.

There is no mention at all of an election announcement, nor any plan for an election.

Fair enough! 'Twas an idle thought. Plus, it would actually be bad timing from a logistical perspective - David Cameron, Foreign Secretary and Bae of Pigs, is currently flying out to Albania for an important international meeting, and Jeremy Cunt is on TV all day today - ITV next.

12.18pm

Sunak is asked at Prime Minister’s Questions whether he’ll call a general election.  He doesn’t rule it out.

12.56pm

Fun tweet alert!

2.31pm

Pippa Crerar asked Sunak’s press secretary whether he was calling an election.  She refused to comment.

Surely it’s a terrible time to call an election! Everyone hates them!  But suddenly …

A Cabinet meeting is scheduled for 4.15pm.  David Hameron suddenly u-turns in Albania and comes straight back home, his meeting un-met.  Jeremy Cunt cancels his ITV appearance.  The afternoon meeting is cancelled. Number 10 stops responding to journalists.  Manifesto work has stepped up.  Sunak’s chief-of-staff is spotted wearing a suit and tie WHICH IS UNUSUAL.  Senior ministers have spent the last few days doubling down on dividing lines.  And Tory bosses had a meeting this week to discuss how much money they could spend before a summer election.

The UK press sense blood in the water.

3pm

Okay.

There’s something you need to understand:

People suspect Rishi Sunak doesn’t actually want to live in the UK.  He’d prefer to be in California.  He’s here because he’s an MP.

You need to know this to understand this truly historic incident.

Nadine Dorries has produced a good tweet.

...

...

...

No, we all need to sit with this one for a minute

(For the record... to us, that is an excellent joke. But I strongly suspect she wasn't joking and was trying to make a catty accusation instead, which coincidentally appeared like a roast.

Scientists are referring to this as Stopped Clock Syndrome.)

5.17pm

With great dignity, Rishi Sunak stands outside Number 10 and announces a general election on 4 July.

And by “great dignity”, I mean he’s soaked by rain, while “Things Can Only Get Better” plays in the background courtesy of an anti-Tory protestor with a big speaker and a dream; the song adopted by he Labour Party for the 1997 election, where Tony Blair famously won a landslide victory after 18 years of Tory rule. Eventually, the volume of it is raised so high Sunak is, on more than one level, drowned out.

5.37pm

According to Gabriel Pogrund of the Times, Labour can’t believe Number 10 allowed this to happen.

One Labour insider texts: “Umbrellas are woke”

6.06pm

Good tweet alert!

8pm

A later Guardian article reports that Sunak greeted around a hundred Tory activists – still wearing the same rain-soaked trousers from the announcement.

No word at all on why he doesn't have aides capable of fetching him dry trousers. Perhaps those, too, are woke.

8.14pm

A Sky News reporter is at Sunak’s campaign launch.  But, bafflingly, he’s forcibly removed.  Extraordinary scenes

Elanor's Pro Tip: Removing a journalist may not be the best PR move for the start of an election trail.

8.27pm

9.36pm

A GBNews reporter claims that some Tory MPs are trying desperately to replace Sunak as leader in order to call off the general election.  For this to work, they’d need a vote of no confidence before the dissolution of parliament on Thursday 30 May.  Except actually, that would have to happen before the proroguing of parliament on Friday 24 May.

So … this won’t work.  But how very incredible - and hilarious - that they’re trying.

10.39pm

Let's take a look at the evening headlines!

A great start to Sunak’s campaign, with newspapers - including the Tory giant The Telegraph - celebrating the triumphant launch of his campaign:

Well! WHAT a day! Let's see how Thursday goes.

Thursday 23 May

8.00am

The BBC takes a moment to gleefully throw off the shackles of political oppression of the last 12 years to reveal that Rishi Sunak's announcement of a July election, the single most important announcement for a sitting government, the most sensitive and vitally-timed event in their calendar...

Was a total surprise to the rest of the party.

Tory party MPs found out when we did that they were about to have to campaign again. For a snap GE. Three weeks after having just done it for the council elections, in which they experienced the greatest single loss of their councillors in history. Even the damn meeting agenda was fake.

Still. Perhaps this explains the lack of umbrella or trousers.

9.09am

Nigel Farage confirms he will NOT stand at the general election. 

*pause for applause*

That’s because he’s helping Trump get re-elected in the US right now.

*pause for screams*

This is good news for the Tories!  And the rest of Britain, actually (commiserations to America. Please shoot him). Farage’s right-wing populist party - Reform UK - is the spiritual successor to UKIP and the Brexit Party, who’ve been splitting the right-wing vote for years.  Farage is popular; it’s bad news for Reform if he’s not part of their campaign, but simply fantastic news for those of us who think queer folks, women and people of colour deserve human rights.

9.19am

According to BBC News and others, Sunak has hired Isaac Levido, the election strategist behind the Tories’ landslide win in 2019.  Levido knows his stuff, and advised Sunak to stick with an autumn election.

Sunak ignored this advice.  Lol.

9.20am

In the Guardian, Sunak says there WON’T be planes of immigrants flying to Rwanda before the general election.  Good news for those of us who think it’s monstrous to deport immigrants to countries with unsafe governments.  Bad news for Tory voters who were hoping to get racists to vote for them.

Now, this is particularly funny, because promising to deport refugees to Rwanda in spite of overwhelming legal opposition on human rights grounds is probably the single hill that the Tories have chosen to commit genocide on. This bill has been in and out of every court in the land since they promised it in 2019. It's been on again off again more than a tawdry tabloid romance. But, they finally managed to push it through, and the first planes were set to fly in July.

This means! That Sunak's strongest cards going into the election were the drop in inflation, and the Rwanda bill. He could sell it as "In spite of those bleeding heart liberals, we persevered and managed to tenaciously get rid of these browns and thus fulfilled our promise", and the fact that it won't actually affect the immigration numbers wouldn't be clear until after the election. And make no mistake, it is VITAL that those planes fly before any election - quoth one influential Conservative MP on the right of the party to the BBC:

“I know what question you’re going to ask us again and again. "You’ll say we’ve been banging on about Rwanda for years and we’ve only managed to fly one migrant out there - and we paid him to go”.

It took a single day for that gamble to dramatically fail.

Lol. Lmao, even. One might almost say rofl.

9.21am

Sunak is emphasising his own role in managing the economy.

The Guardian’s Rowena Mason points out that it might be better to sell this as a Tory victory rather than a Sunak victory, considering how badly Sunak’s doing as an individual in the polls.

10.45am

I'm obviously giving a lot of attention here to the funniest and most ridiculous stuff, but let’s take a moment to celebrate some genuinely brilliant journalism:

0_o

The whole article’s worth reading. It confirms that at least one more hi-vis wearer was a Tory councillor in disguise (in this case Ben Hall-Evans). Perhaps this is why they started by removing all the real journalists.

12.42pm

Sunak’s campaign takes him to a brewery in Wales!  He attempts some Bonding With The Working Man and asks the workers if they’re excited for the football.

Top tip: if you don’t realise the country you’re in hasn’t qualified for the Euros, maybe don’t even mention the subject.

6.55pm

... here is a new problem. Ish.

As mentioned, three weeks ago, England held local council elections. In that time, the Tories lost over half their councillors; an unprecedented and staggering loss in one event. We are all still bathing in the schadenfreude.

But, many of those then left the party (probably fairly, actually - monsters though Tories are, that cannot have been fun.) But, the way politics in the UK works is that when you vote, you don't vote for the party - you vote for your local representative, and then it's a numbers game as to which party gets to rule. This means, with this sudden last-minute possibly-impulsively-declared-by-one-soggy-madman election now six weeks away, those candidates all need replacing so that the Tories will have a shot at getting the numbers they need to form a majority government.

Channel 4’s Paul McNamara reports that Conservative HQ have emailed asking for candidates in almost 100 seats.  The deadline’s tight for this – and apparently, joining the lengthening list of people who weren't informed of this stupid election plan, Tory associations are livid at being left so unprepared.

Now, a lot of these seats are Labour strongholds, so you don’t necessarily need more than a token Tory candidate for them. Phew! A great relief.

But some of them are actually good Tory seats. Uh oh!  Basildon, Bury St Edmunds, Wellingborough and Rushden …  It’s a bad hit to the Tories to have so little time to find good candidates for these seats.

8.59pm

Labour launch a campaign video.  It’s long, but the message is, “Remember life before the Tories got into power?  Wasn’t it BRILLIANT?”

And to prove how great 2009 was, they’ve included a clip of David Tennant’s Dr Who saying “I don’t want to go.”

Lol.

9.57pm

Filmmaker Richard Cubitt jokily suggests he could stand as a Tory candidate, and immediately defect to Labour as soon as possible once elected.

I don’t know if the deadline’s closed, but I am now speaking to the chat. Lads: the time will never be better. Do it. Tell the Tories you'll stand for them. Immediately defect. You have the opportunity to do the funniest thing. Be the rot in the barrel. The time is now.

ANYWAY. Oh boy. Day one of campaigning was quite bad. Ah well! Onwards and upwards for Wali Heb Broli. Let's see what Friday brings.

And of course: the losses are staggering (100 candidates!), but it could be worse.

At least it's not senior MPs.

Friday 24 May

7.00am

Over 70 MPs confirm they will not be standing for re-election.

7.35am

It’ll be lovely to see this election get rid of some truly awful Tories.  But no need to wait that long!  John Redwood stands down.  I haven't mentioned him before, but let's look at his clownface eggshell.

He opposed reducing the age of consent for homosexuality in 1994 and 1999, he voted to keep Section 28 in 2003, he opposed same sex marriage, he voted to reintroduce the death penalty in 1988, 1990 and 1994, he’s argued against Greta Thunberg over the UK’s climate emissions.

Although English, he became Secretary of State for Wales in 1993, and at a Tory conference, had to mime badly to the Welsh national anthem which he hadn’t bothered learning.  In 1995, he cheated Wales out of a £100 million grant by returning it unspent to the treasury, so it could go back to England.

So, John – if by some fantastically rare chance you’re somehow reading this – it’s wonderful to see you step down.  I wish you a very warm fuck you.  And I hope the rest of your life is absolutely horrible and filled with immeasurable pain. Kisses.

7.58am

Vicky Spratt of the i newspaper announces that, with an election announced, the Renters’ Reform won’t pass.

This is a big deal, actually - this was a rare good promise in the Tories’ 2019 manifesto to protect renters by ending no-fault evictions.  A good promise!  With cross-parliamentary support, only slowed as much as it was because most Tory backbenchers are landlords and so tried to block it. But the fighting raged on, and it was finally agreed.

And now it’s broken.  Wasting months of work by stakeholders, and thus forming another election promise that would have sailed through if only the election hadn't been called for July.

8.09am

Jeremy Corbyn – remember him? Former Labour leader, who was expelled from the Labour party in 2020 – confirms he’ll be standing as an independent.  He’s continued to be a member of Labour despite being an independent MP – but standing against Labour in an election means he’ll have his membership revoked too.

9.26am

So where are we at? How do you reckon the normal Tories in the party are faring? Do you think they're positive of a win? Do you think they expect to lose?

Great Guardian article here:

Highlights - one government minister happened to bump into his equivalent opposition member, and immediately thrust his official folder towards them, saying, “You might as well have this now.”

Another Tory MP hugged a Labour colleague and cast their arm around the room.  “Good luck.  This is all yours.”

One Tory backbencher was asked if it was a good idea to call an election.  “It’s a disaster. I can’t understand it.”

Even when they’re being optimistic, the Tories seem a little glum.  One long-standing MP said: “Of course I’m going to fight it, I don’t believe in just giving up like the prime minister has obviously decided to.”

A former minister raises an interesting point.  It’s not long, after all, since the Tories suffered those major defeats at the local council elections.  That's impacted the number of candidates, of course - but, local canvassing is largely done, on all parts of the political spectrum, but activist volunteers.

That loss was three weeks ago. If you were a volunteer who just spent weeks knocking on the doors of your neighbours and community, trying to convince them to vote for the dead horse, and then lost – maybe you won’t feel like hitting the streets again so soon. Maybe you'd prefer to be able to meet your neighbours' eyes when you bump into them in the bread slicing queue at Morrisons.

Some MPs have even admitted they won’t be cancelling holiday plans to fight the election.  On top of that, there's over 70 MPs that have already confirmed they’re quitting and won’t be seeking re-election!!! Absolute scenes.

Interestingly, some anti-Sunak Tories report frustration.  They reckon they were close to calling a vote of no-confidence, in the hopes of replacing Sunak with a different leader.  No idea if this is true – and if true, whether Sunak knew it. But given the panicked speed at which it seems to have been called...

11.08am

The campaign takes Rishi Sunak to the Titanic Quarter, to be interviewed by Belfast Live.

Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t let journalists interview you on a site named after history’s most famous sinking ship.

11.57am

How’s the campaign going, Rishi?

Oh, Rishi. Looks like someone else is not meeting anyone's eyes in the bread-slicing queue.

1.12pm

Politics UK reports that 75 Tory MPs are now standing down at the election – the same number of Tories who stood down ahead of the 1997 election.

2.49pm

Sunak’s campaign takes him on board an aeroplane.

Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t be photographed in front of an exit sign.

7.07pm

MICHAEL GOVE ANNOUNCES HE’S STANDING DOWN AS AN MP!

I could honestly use that gif like seventeen times in this write up. You can all thank me for my restraint in choosing just one.

The 79th Tory to do so at this election – an all-time record exodus.  Hey gang, would you like to see some familiar names joining him in this?

Theresa May

Sajid Javid

Dominic Raab

Matt Hancock

Ben Wallace

Nadhim Zahawi.

It’s just … not a great sign for the party, is it? That so many prominent MPs don’t reckon it’s worth sticking around.

7.50pm

Hey, remember those parody videos of Hitler getting angry with funny subtitles?  Someone made a good Sunak one:

10.48pm

The Guardian’s Kiran Stacey reports that Sunak will retreat from the campaign trail, spending the next day at home.

Honestly... that's probably best. Let him recover from the bread excitement.

10.50pm

We round off the day with Andrea Leadsom announcing she too is standing down as an MP. Bye, bitch.

WHAT A DAY! Still, Saturday will probably be better.

Saturday 25 May

12am

New episode of Doctor Who drops! It contains Welsh faeries. I later write a post explaining this. You're all welcome. Back to the circus.

10.06am

Good tweet alert!

11.14am

Keir Starmer promises to lower the voting age from 18 to 16 if he wins the election.

2.43pm

Hey remember how David Hameron was supposed to be in Albania? And actually went there? And then had to come back because of Rishi's totally-planned-for election announcement?

The Mirror reports that David Cameron spent £60,000 of taxpayers’ money getting to Albania for that trip.  He was there for 89 minutes, before he had to come back in light of the general election announcement.

This means it cost the country £674 a minute for Cameron to be in Albania for about as long as it takes to watch The Lion King.

6.14pm

Labour and the Tories put candidates forward for 650 seats in a general election.

Of course, that's not quite all of them. The Times’ Patrick Maguire understands that Labour have only 13 candidates left to select, which is pretty good.  The Tories are missing slightly more than that. 

They need to find around 190.

(The number is rising. Chat, you know what to do.)

9.29pm

According to the Telegraph, Theresa May has said if she was still PM she would have used an umbrella to declare the election.

She probably would have, too.

10.11pm

Now then!!! Gather round boys and girls and all the rest!

Remember: the election was called based upon the following main cards in Sunak's hand:

The Rwanda bill

Inflation falling

The Renter's Reform Bill

Inflation fell, but not by as much as it should have. The Rwanda plan fell through a day later. The election itself has blocked the Renter's Reform bill.

Rishi needs a new set of promises stat, in order to shore up votes from his most important bastions of support. What can he offer?

The evening brings the answer!

At 10.11pm - note the time - in spite of having taken the day off, Sunak promises mandatory national service for every 18 year old if he wins the election.  Either a year-long army placement, or a weekend a month volunteering for a year.

Sounds like a good pledge, if you’re hoping to motivate 18-year-olds to vote against you.

10.16pm

The Financial Times’ Jim Pickard reveals that the National Citizen Service (David Cameron’s legacy project) had its funding slashed by two-thirds in a 2022 review of government youth funding - when the chancellor was Rishi Sunak.

Five minutes.  That’s how long it took a journalist to melt Sunak’s new pledge.

Still; Tories never let facts get in the way.

10.27pm

Politics UK reports that leaked documents suggest teenagers would be jailed for refusing this national service.

11.47pm

Sunak's bad ideas generator works hard, but the meme makers of the internet work harder:

Still. Sunday is a day of rest! Hopefully Sunday will be better.

Sunday 26 May

9.50am

Let’s check the Sunday tweets.

Starting to think whoever is in charge of optics for Rishi Sunak may be a Labour plant.

10.21am

Fantastic tweet alert:

I Agree With Gabby

3pm

And then... PLOT TWIST!!!

FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Sunak’s national service pledge - including assigning up to 30,000 18-year-olds to the military - was rejected this week by one of his own defence ministers.

Defence personnel minister Andrew Murrison warned of a hit to morale, headcount and resources if “potentially unwilling national service recruits” were introduced alongside Britain’s professional armed forces.

EVEN THE ARMY DON'T WANT THIS.

6.47pm

And then:

Incredible story from Gabriel Pogrund of the Times.

St Paul’s School, if you haven't heard of it, is an expensive and famous private school in England somewhere (I forget where and don't care).  As with other private schools, they’d be subject post-election to a Labour plan to remove their VAT exemption.

Tory MP Greg Hands took matters into his own Greg hands, and messaged the school’s parents’ WhatsApp group to try and drum up anti-Labour sentiment.

I can see the logic. These are parents with money, who have chosen to send their children to a private school that often means an easy track into politics generally and the Tory party specifically. I see why he thought he was safe.

Tumblrs, he was not safe.

Parents intervened, complaining about Hands spamming the chat, and claiming his use of the chat was “inappropriate”.

One parent messaged: “Can we stop assuming everyone is a Tory in this group.  A return to more morality, less corruption and more social conscience in British politics is not something to oppose necessarily.”

Another expressed that some parents will “feel it is hard to defend private schools being vat exempt.”

Ouch. Swing and a miss, Greg Hands.

Anyway. New week, new campaigning. I am writing this on Tuesday, and so our tale is nearly at an end for now; so let's see what happened on Monday.

Monday 27 May (Yesterday)

7.40am

Britain's teenagers respond to the national service plan. I love this tweet and the video it reposts:

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the video:

8.17am

Tory MP Steve Baker (more on him later) actually tweets a public criticism of Sunak’s national service plan.  You might be thinking "Well yes, obviously"! But no! For you see, when approaching elections, parties need to be united. Divided parties generally find it harder to win elections.

Naughty Steve.

8.41am

Foreign Office Minister Anne-Marie Trevelyan, having seen the absolute shambles of Sunak’s campaigning, wakes up this fine Monday morn and invites him to hold her beer.

Appearing on Times Radio, she’s asked whether the parents of teenagers could be prosecuted if the teens refuse to take up national service.

And she doesn’t rule it out.

NO BUT WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANNE-MARIE. IS THIS YOUR FIRST DAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.

Parents are NOT prosecuted for any wrongdoing of their ADULT CHILDREN.  How do you not understand this basic legal concept. The answer to that question was “no”!  You say “no” because it makes your party more likely to be elected, and you say “no” because the answer is no.

Oh dear. What a gaffe, as the papers say. Gosh, I really hope Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe stays contained.

8.56am

The Telegraph duly reports that parents of 18-year-olds might be fined if their children refuse national service.

Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe did not stay contained.

10.55am

Looks like the Tories are unhappy that the press revealed that Sunak took a day off from campaigning.

But that’s okay, they have a new strategy!  Reported by Politico, they’ve decided to suggest that Keir Starmer is too old to be a good Prime Minister.

They called him “weary” yesterday afternoon;

Tory Party Chair Richard Holden says it’s “bizarre” for Starmer to rest at home the day before a speech (but not for Rishi to - ? You know what, never mind);

A Tory aide tells the Sun that Starmer should be dubbed “Sir Sleepy” (what a Zinger, as those conscripted into national service say);

Another Tory aide calls Starmer “Sleepy Keir” according to the FT.

Keir Starmer is 61 years old.

11.17am

Let's check Tory candidate numbers!!!

Now last we looked it was 190, but obviously, as this is possibly their most urgent priority, they've been working flat out and recruiting across the land and so they have, fair play, managed to reduce that number.

The Spectator therefore reports that the Tories have 12 days to select 160 candidates.  Would you like to see the maths?

This means, on average, they need to select one candidate every 100 minutes.  Which is slightly less time than it takes to watch Toy Story 3.

#ChatYouKnowWhatToDo

12.41pm

The FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Tory HQ has accidentally sent out an email criticising Tory MPs for failing to campaign, and warning of financial concerns in some seats.

Cannot stress this enough: even if the Tory campaign was going really well and they were predicting a landslide their way, this would be a terrible blow.

5.02pm

The Mirror reports that Tory MP Steve Baker is on holiday in Greece.  That’s pretty irresponsible, isn’t it?  What does Baker have to say for himself?

"The Prime Minister told everyone we could go on holiday and then called a snap election. So I've chosen to do my campaign work in Greece."

… this is the greatest Tory campaign in history.

(And once again... when exactly did you decide to do this, Rishi?)

5.15pm

In an absolutely baffling move whose motives I still cannot entirely fathom, Tory MP Lucy Allan - a repugnant, malignant liar of a woman who once altered an email from a constituent so she could claim it contained a death threat against her - is suspended by the party, for telling voters in her ward to vote for Reform UK instead of the Tories.

...

...

...

...wwwhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

6.18pm

Good tweet alert! Here's political journalist Jonn Elledge:

6.30pm

Meanwhile, a Tory chooses to contact journalist Theo Usherwood over WhatsApp, criticising the election strategist Isaac Levido:

Now this is particularly interesting, because Levido is the guy who managed to swing the last GE to BlowJo, even though Labour were riding high on Corbyn. And I don't know, maybe he is actually shit at this and all that was luck.

I just... wouldn't have said he was the reason for this one going the way it is. Necessarily.

Finally, let's finish off Monday with a last good tweet:

10.06pm

***

That's all for now, folks! Thank you for reading, enjoy the circus playing out this week!

[liveontelevision]

Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!

I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')

But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol

Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor

What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?

"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.

You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?

Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.

You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.

"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.

You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.

"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.

"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.

"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.

"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..

"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.

"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.

"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.

"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.

"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.

"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.

"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."

While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.

"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking."  You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.

"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.

"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."

"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.

"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.

"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?

"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.

"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.

"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.

"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.

"Deal."

You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.

Now that you had to tell him your name.

You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.

You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.

"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.

You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.

"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.

"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.

You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.

Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?

"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.

"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.

"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.

"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.

"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.

"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.

"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.

You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.

A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.

As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.

"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.

After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.

"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.

"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.

There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.

You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.

You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.

You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.

As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.

Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.

You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.

The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?

You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.

"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?

"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.

"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.

"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.

"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.

"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.

"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.

"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.

The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.

"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.

"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.

"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.

-

This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.

But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.

He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.

"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.

"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.

"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.

"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.

"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.

"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.

Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.

"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.

"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.

"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.

"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.

"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.

"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.

"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.

"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.

"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.

Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.

Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.

"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.

You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.

Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.

You may have made a mistake.

"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.

"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.

"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.

"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.

"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.

"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.

"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.

"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.

"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.

"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.

"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.

"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.

"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.

"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.

"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.

You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.

"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.

But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.

You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.

"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.

"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.

"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.

"Kitten-"

"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.

"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.

"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.

“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.

“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.

“But, I-”

“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.

He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.

Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.

As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.

Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.

“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.

Although, it wasn’t perfect today.

You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.

After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.

On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.

Blood.

Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.

Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.

“No.”

You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.

How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.

You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.

Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.

He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.

Run.

You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.

“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.

“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.

“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.

“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”

“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.

“W-Why..?”

“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.

“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.

“Yes.”

“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.

Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.

Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.

“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.

“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.

“You want to stay?” He asks in response.

“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.

“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.

“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.

“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.

The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.

You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?

It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?

Didn't he?

Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.

He's dead.

“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.

You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.

The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.

“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.

“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.

“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.

“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.

It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.

“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.

“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.

“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.

“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.

“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff. 

You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.

After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.

-

You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..

There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.

You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.

"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.

"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.

"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.

"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.

"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.

"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.

"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.

“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.

"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..

“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”

-

Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.

Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.

But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.

Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.

You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.

But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.

Then why are you so restless?

A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.

“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.

“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.

“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.

Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.

“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.

“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.

“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.

“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.

-

You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.

“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.

“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.

“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”

"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently. 

“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…” 

You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.

“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?” 

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-

“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-” 

“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.

“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.

“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder. 

“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.

“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.

“W-What are you-”

“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.

“W-Well, I.. it was just-” 

“When did you arrive?”

“A few.. decades ago..?”

“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair. 

You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.

“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.

His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?

“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.

“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.

“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.

“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”

“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.

“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.

“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.

“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.

“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.

“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.

“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn���t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.

“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.

“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.

“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.

“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips. 

“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.

“About that-”

“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.

“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-

Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.

“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”

“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.” 

“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.

“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.

“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.

“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.

“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.

“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.

“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.

“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.

“I missed your smile.” He says softly.

“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.

You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.

“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.

“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.

“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.

“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?

“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.

“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.

You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.

“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.

“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.

“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.

“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.

“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.

“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.

“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.

“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He kisses you, again.

“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.

“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.

Stay.. please.”

There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.

You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.

It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.

Okay, a lot.

You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.

You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.

"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.

"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.

Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.

♡♡♡

Another big boy for ya 🫶

Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol

I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬

Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @the-maladaptive-daydreamers /@str4wberry-t00th-anon / @voxrei / @raythegay / @whoknowswhoiamtoday )

[jessefandomunited]

Alone for Christmas

It's Christmas Eve and you realize that there is no way you'll be able to see your parents this year on such short notice. Luckily it seems like someone else dosent have plans either and it may just be someone you've had a crush on for a while.

Spencer x GN reader - no smut just probably some snuggles and kisses

Christmas had come too quickly this year, and while working at the BAU was rewarding it was ridiculously hard , especially during this time of year. I called my parents a few times and told them that unfortunately the case we were on was running long and I couldn't get a flight out in time. They told me that we would just have to have Christmas whenever I could make it over, which made me smile.

" hey did you hear ," Penelope asked as I slowly came back to reality. " Hu...oh uh no sorry I was spaced out," I said nervously. "Well they got him! They'll be home by Christmas Eve," she cheered . I smiled ," that's great but I literally have nothing to do now," I sighed leaning back in my chair. She thought a moment," well... I mean... Spencer is probably free." I could feel heat creeping up my neck, " so." She rolled her eyes," SOOOOO ask him out come on you have movie nights all the time what's so different about this?" " it's CHRISTMAS EVE that's the difference, I maybe will ask him to hang out but the last thing I want is for this to be a day where I lost my best friend due to a little crush," I insisted. She nodded," okay fiiine, me and my guy can drop by and give you some of the dinner I cooked , I always make too much anyway." I smiled," sure that would be great."

Everyone was back and I was drumming nervously on the strap of my back pack. I didn't think he would say no but my mind always jumped to the worst case scenario. " welcome back guys," Garcia greeted causing me to almost jump out of my skin. I looked up and locked eyes with Spencer. I forced a smile and waved. " relax," I heard Garcia whispering as she gently nudged me towards him. I walked over and said ," hey, how was the trip." " it was great we made better time than most trips, I thought we would be snowed in. You know the clouds are the best indicator a storm is coming" I was once again in the Spencer trance. While most people told him to hurry up or get to the point I was stuck enraptured by his words. His voice his passion everything, he was wonderful. " so do you have plans for Christmas," he asked. The question threw me off and I almost didn't answer, I didn't expect that he would bring it up. " oh.. no I wasn't able to get tickets in time," I said beginning to massage my hands to ease my anxiety. He looked a little surprised," oh... well you know I don't have any plans either so we could have a Christmas movie night, I still havnt given you your Christmas present so it'll be perfect." My head was swirling and I felt like I ascended to cloud nine," yes , yeah that would be fun, you know Garcia said she would bring over some food too." " great it's settled I'll go home and grab some clothes and I'll meet you at your place in an hour 35 most likely ," he said scooping up his satchel," see you then" I waved then slumped into an unattended chair, he actually said yes.

I got home and decided to quickly make some of the tub chocolate chip cookies I have in my fridge as something to snack on while we watched a Christmas movie or two. I also stressed out way more than I should have deciding what pair of pjs to wear. I had a limited option but what combo of old shirt and pj pant truly said I'm secretly in love with you. After that I brought out a blanket for the couch and started to heat up milk on the stove to make hot chocolate. Even if there was no dramatic confession I was excited to spend time with him.

Almost exactly as he predicted I hear a light knock at the door one hour and 35 minutes after we had left the BAU. He had an overnight bag and a huge grocery bag as well. " wow what's all this I said helping him with his things. " well I thought we could decorate gingerbread house while we were watching Christmas movies ," he said beaming. My heart almost melted , he brought a secondary activity. " oooOo cookies and hot chocolate," he said excitedly, " perfect! Have you decided which movie we're watching first?" I nodded," it's kind of embarrassing but I havnt watched white Christmas yet and I really love it." He nodded," that's a great choice I love those old musicals. If you want to start it up I'll get the gingerbread houses sorted." I agreed and put on the movie.

Soon enough we were annoyingly singing the songs while we made our houses and drank our filll of hot coco. I tried my best to make the house as good as possible but it still ended up pretty sloppy. After we migrated over to the couch and settled in. We watched the muppet la Christmas carol which Spencer insisted was a must , then home alone, and then we were both fast asleep.

I woke up to the smell of bacon wafting through the air and Christmas music was playing on the radio. I smiled and checked my phone before fully waking up. Garcia sent a text that said " merry Christmas I'll be over at about 11 TELL HIM" I said merry Christmas to her and maybe. As I sat up I noticed there was a plate of half eaten cookies by the small tree I had that now had two presents beneath it. I chuckled, " looks like Santa came aye?" He glanced over ," would you look at that he did!" " thanks for making breakfast," I said stretching. " no problem at all, Thankyou for offering your home to me," he said smiling . I took a cup and poured some coffee in before sitting at the table and gazing outside at the sparkling snow covering the roads, everything seemed so still. And I felt like I did need to tell Spencer, today, now. " hey uh Spence," I asked looking over . He had two plates that he picked up and plopped in front of each of us, " yes?" I poked at my eggs and took a deep breath before saying, " if I say this can you promise our friendship we will be there." He got a worried look on his face as he said , " it depends but I believe so." I swallowed, " ever since i met you I think .... I liked you, like .. maybe even loved. I've had some issues in the past so I didn't think you would like me back. So I hid it. But it's eating me up inside and I'm fine if you don't like me back we can still be friends but I had to tell you." He didn't answer and I risked a glance up at him. He was shocked and his face was beat red, " really?" I nodded anticipating a smooth rejection. " I thought ... you only liked me as a friend too, I ... feel the same way," he stumbled over his words but it seemed to be from excitement. My eyes widened," is .. is that a yes... are we like together?" He laughed, " yes please." We both got up and embraced eachother, I felt tears come out as we stayed there. We both pulled back a bit and kissed. It was better than I thought it would be. He was more forceful than I expected his hands pulling me closer to him, we probably would have stayed like that longer if it wasn't for a kick at the door. It was 11, garcia had impeccable timing. I walked over and opened the door to an overjoyed Garcia who hugged me immediately," did you do it." I nodded and her eyes lit up she looked from me to Spencer , " are you guys?" Spencer tried to hide a smile but also just sheepishly nodded. She squealed in delight and ran over to hug him to, her boyfriend trailing behind her with food and gifts.

The rest of the day was wonderfully lazy. We ate with Garcia and her boyfriend who left quickly after to see his parents. Then we made out a bit more before remembering our presents. We sat underneath the tree and exchanged our presents. I had clumsily attempted to make him some crocheted socks (mismatched of course) but I also got him a first addition copy of " the blind banker" which he was ecstatic about. For me he had remembered how much I loved his 4th doctor scarf and made me one too. I was over the moon and gave him the tightest hug I could.

The rest of the evening we put on various Christmas movies and cuddled and talked. It was wonderful. I was overjoyed at how well this turned out. I honestly could not have been happier than I was now



[smells-like-mettaton]

Happy birthday @carlyraejepsans!! Small birthday fic for you!!!

Word Count: 1 123

Rating: G

Summary: Papyrus and Mettaton enact an explosive plan to get Sans and the Queen together.

XXX

“Are you sure this will lead to an explosion of romantic feelings?” Papyrus whispered to Mettaton in their hiding spot behind a conveniently-shaped shrub. 

The convenience was artificially-created—he had been the one to trim this particular hedge in the shape of himself and Mettaton—but that was okay. Sometimes these things needed a little artificial flavor, or nothing would ever get done! 

He hoped Queen Toriel liked the artificial flavor of bombs. 

“Darling, nothing is more romantic than missile toe!” Mettaton replied, holding a long pair of binoculars to see through the hedge. “Just wait. This program hasn’t even started yet!”

Papyrus scooted closer, pressing one eyesocket to half of the binoculars. It gave him a pretty good view of his brother and the queen standing beneath one of the garden’s arches, where Sans liked to hang out and pick water sausages for his “illegal” hot dog stand. Mettaton had forged a note in Sans’s handwriting, and Papyrus had set up the missile toe—a tarsal-and-bomb combo Mettaton said was a hit on the surface—to create the most romantic atmosphere possible. Surely it would blow through Sans’s aloof exterior and compel him to confess his true feelings!

“Hey, Tori.” Sans hid a bundle of water sausages behind his back. Papyrus wasn’t sure why he bothered, since they both knew Toriel knew what he was doing with them. “Water you doing here?”

Papyrus suppressed a groan. Sans was never going to get anywhere with abysmal puns like that! It was a good thing he had such a brilliant brother looking out for him!!

Toriel laughed, though, because she was absolutely smitten by Sans’s slime-emitting charms. Somehow. 

“Oh, nothing mulch.” She smiled, her fangs poking out from under her upper lip. Papyrus had caught Sans grinning dopily at that smile more times than he could count. Not that Toriel would be able to tell, since Sans’s expressions were nearly impossible for anyone but Papyrus to read. “I hoped you might be able to tell me.”

She held out the note Mettaton had written. It had told her to meet Sans here for a special surprise. 

“Huh. Any idea who wrote that?” Sans asked, glancing around. 

Papyrus tried to keep his bones from rattling with anticipation. 

“It was not from you?” Toriel frowned. 

“Nope. It’s a pretty good forgery, though. They even got my i’s write.” He held the paper up to the sun lamps in the cavern ceiling, like he was trying to see through it. Mettaton hadn’t hidden any secret messages, though, as far as Papyrus was aware. “Hey, wait a second.”

While looking up, he’d apparently noticed the missile toe. Perfect timing!

“Hit it, darling!” Mettaton said.

Papyrus pressed the remote detonator. 

The bomb exploded with a BOOM of bones and confetti. It was loud, it was flashy, it was perfect! In fact, Toriel was throwing herself at his brother already!!

She tackled Sans to the ground, tarsals raining down on her back. Sans’s face, pinned near her shoulder, went bright blue.

“Are you alright?” Toriel asked him quickly, propping herself up on her palms. 

“Uh,” he said coherently. 

“Ugh, Sans, you’re blowing it!!” Papyrus hissed.

“Let the show go on,” Mettaton stage-whispered. “There’s still time for a grand finale.”

“Not sure about all right, but looks like I’m all left in one piece,” Sans finally said, still lying on the ground. 

“Thank goodness.” Toriel sighed shakily. “Perhaps I should not have disbanded the Royal Guard after all… I never would have expected such a cowardly attack…”

“Heh. I think you’ve got it the other way around.” Sans picked up one of the fallen tarsals. “This has the Royal Guard written all over it.”

“You mean—Papyrus did this?” Toriel’s brow furrowed.

Papyrus cursed. Ratted out by his own brother! Didn’t he have any sense of gratitude??

“Do you not think that is a little far-fetched?” Toriel asked, standing and helping him to his feet. “Perhaps he is being framed. Your brother has no reason to fight either of us. Unless our puns pushed him too far…”

“Nah, he’s not into that kind of pun-ishment.” Sans grimaced. 

“Then why…?”

“Because Sans is incapable of telling you how he feels!” Papyrus burst through the hedge, leaving a Papyrus-shaped hole in the Papyrus-shaped shrub.

“Hey, bro.” Sans sounded tired, and not at all surprised to see him.

“Papyrus?” Toriel gaped.

“And Mettaton!” Mettaton burst through his adjacent shrub.

“And Mettaton.” Sans sighed. “Nice job with the note.”

“Thank you! Having a built-in photocopier comes in handy.”

Toriel pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“What is the meaning of all this?” 

“Romance! Drama! Bloodshed! What else?” Mettaton beamed. “The producer isn’t supposed to be seen on set, but Papyrus made the executive decision to pull back the curtain, so here we are! Ready for our close-up!”

Toriel shook her head, but chuckled.

“Of course… well, that is sweet of you. But, I am afraid your script has an error in it.”

“An error?” Mettaton gasped with a hand to his mouth. 

“Yes. You see, I already know how Sans feels about me.” She smiled.

“You… what???” Papyrus’s jaw dropped.

Sans went pale. Paler than usual, anyway.

“What.”

She rested a hand on Sans’s shoulder.

“I did not want to press you on the subject. I have been alive for hundreds of years. I can be patient.” She gave Papyrus a stern look, and he shivered. “As you should learn to be, as well. It is terribly impolite to force someone to confront their feelings before they are ready.”

Papyrus looked away. He’d just been trying to help! Still, there was no fighting a look like that. He could only hope she decided to spare him.

“I see… My dating handbook must be missing a few pages,” he muttered.

“There was no force involved! Only the romantic catalyst of missile toe!” Mettaton insisted, hugging Papyrus close as if to protect him from Toriel’s glare.

“Missile…?” Sans snickered. “Okay, that’s funny.”

“I knew you would understand!” Papyrus said. Sans always appreciated a good jape!

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t try toe blow me up again. Just ‘cause ya missed this time—”

“UGH!! You are impossible!!! You are lucky the Queen puts up with you!!!”

“I think I do more than put up with him.” Toriel winked.

Sans blushed again. 

“Wonderful! That’s a wrap, darlings!” Mettaton waved with the arm that wasn’t squeezing Papyrus. “No need to thank us. Just order a jar of MTT-Brand Beauty Yogurt™ for your first date, and we’ll call it even!” 

Mettaton engaged the wheels in the heels of his boots and zoomed them away. The sound of Sans and Toriel’s laughter echoed behind them.

That was all the thanks that Papyrus needed.

[boin-de-bindery]

All Shook Up / É tutto cosí semplice by ke_vl

My first têtê-bêche binding! First and foremost, thank you ke_vl for trusting me with your AikuSen fics and agreeing to let me bind them 🧡 please check out All Shook Up and É tutto cosí semplice, two stories which catch me in the feels every re-read.

For this project I had to work out how to format both fics into signatures so that the latter one would sit upside down. I was fortunately able to wrangle one fic into 96 pages, while the other ran to 80. Since both are divisible by sixteen, this allowed for the fics to be formatted into self-contained 4-sheet signatures. Hey presto! So rather than navigate inverting PDFs, I printed the two fics separately, then sewed the latter set of signatures on upside down. It was a lot easier than expected, thanks to the numbers working out so neatly.

This is also my first paper cover bind, with recycled 150gsm cotton paper from Søstrene Grene. Adhesive backed vinyl for the cover graphics and text, bound together using kettle stitch. I'm not sure of what brand the endpapers are, but they're 110gsm and pretty sturdy. The endpapers and headbands reference Aiku's heterochromia, while the cover paper is peachy like Sendou lmao. rip blond Sendou

In terms of typesetting, I've found a formula that works for me and my printer... mostly. The margins are a little wide still, even after a round with the chisel. I've pretty much given up on that as a method of page trimming—it scuffs and tears the edges too badly.

Some further WIP pictures/commentary under the cut, since I actually took some for once!

Sewn textblock, then with added headbands/mull. The kettle stitch took me ages for some reason... considering going back to French link stitch for the next project, I think it's quicker.

The headbands are a little scrunched up but I'm happy with them. Green and purple is a pleasing combo.

Completed casing and textblock, then the weeded adhesive vinyl—supervised by Chigiri 👑

I always tell myself my Cricut can handle cursive and thin fonts as long as they're big enough... it really can't 🥲 Had to redesign and reprint the author name / spine titling for É tutto cosí semplice since my original design was too bitty. Weeding was hell regardless. HTV is so much easier to wrangle, but I have loads of the adhesive stuff to use up before I let myself buy more HTV.

I had a concern that the cover paper design was too busy for the vinyl to stand out on. In the end, the purple looks fine, but I think the reverse cover would look better if I'd used a darker green.

The last issue with the book is how jank the spine looks when the cover is laid flat. I think I glued the purple side of the text block too close to the edge of the coverboard, making the other side bunch? That or yet again, I made the spine stiffener too wide. It's not super noticeable when the book is closed. Hoping to improve on this in future binds!

My favourite detail is inspired by a têtê-bêche novel I owned in childhood (Sisters... No Way! by Siobhán Parkinson) It's written from two perspectives, and when you'd finished reading one, my copy had a note telling you to flip over and read the other side. I did the same thing here, accompanied by panels of the two boys nabbed from the manga.

[findafight]

STOBIN AS DRIFT COMPATIBLE BESTIES FIGHTING KAIJU!!!

OKAY OKAY BUT. post canon au where the Breach opens in the early nineties instead of 2013, and eventually when the Jaeger Program is just in the fledgling stages, right at the start when they figure out the drift and sharing the load, some American government goon looks at another, and they're both thinking the same thing. They know a couple chucklefucks who are scarily in tune with each other that already have monster fighting experience. The problem is of course the chucklefuckery and also they. Hate the government.

But they figure yknow. May as well try to get the actually very good at killing monsters the military can't clowns. They need people willing to go into deathtraps and fight giant monsters, and those two have done that a few times before. They need people that can connect to each other while also fighting without dying, and figure those two are a prime example. So after a lot of government groveling and Robin and Steve slamming the door in multiple suits' faces, they eventually agree to at least...see what it's all about. Because they heard about the attack in San Francisco on K-day, about Manila and Cabo San Lucas and Syndney, and it was all bad, and as much as they dislike and distrust the government and military...they do want to help (and the pay is...good). It was probably only a matter of time before their luck in avoiding monsters ran out anyway. At least this way they had some control of how.

So Steve and Robin are in the Jaeger Academy almost as soon as it opens. It's...an adjustment. They're obviously not the regular type to join, mostly its a bunch of men who were maybe ex military or something, and they stick out. Training is a pain in the ass, they've spent the years between the upside down closing lounging and working and starting to relax, and so there's the expected heckling.

(I want them to meet Newt and Herman so bad like. they'd be around the same age as them (because we are bumping everything in PR canon back for this) and I think the combo punch of Newt and Robin being themselves would be hilarious. They're all kinda outsiders in the macho militarism of the Academy and i think the chaos would just be. unimaginable. )

But anyways. I think during the testing to see drift compatibility, Steve is called up and looks the scientist/military guy (because it's early days there aren't really "instructors" yet) and says "If you even think about putting me in one of those fucking things with anyone other than Robin, you've lost your mind and forgotten we're only here because you asked us to be together." Everyone is like ooooooh but then he squints at them and they shut up like oh damn okay sorry yeah.

And that's the end of that discussion.

There's something about being in the drift with each other that makes all that complaining and speculating and wishing to combine when they were teenagers seem half-assed. It's...not like anything either of them can describe. It feels right, like they were always meant to be that way. If they lived in each other's pockets before the Drift, they're in each other's skin now. Silent communication is expected for long-term drift partners. Residuals of the bond, dream sharing, but Robin and Steve, even among other pilots are exceptional. There's entire discussions happening in brief eye contact. They move in sync outside the Jaeger just as well as if they were still in the Drift. They've only had one RABBIT incident, and they pulled out of it fine. It's...eerie for some people to watch them, even other Pilots. (also the fact they'll casually mention shit like "well at least the air isn't toxic" or "hey. don't call this torture, that's offensive. I've been tortured!" or even "can't believe i survived evil bats for this shit." which is mildly offputting)

They end up on the Pacific northwest and into southern B.C. with a Mach 1 called... something like Midwest Deluge or something idk. They're media darlings the first Kaiju they kill two fifty kilometres off the coast of Washington. Robin is quirky, and Steve has all his midwestern boyish charm, and together they entrance people with the Drift. There's interviews and talkshows and then at some point action figures? (Dustin does not let this go. By this time he's also working in K-sci. [obviously??] but he's still annoying little brother shaped.)

Steve is usually one of the first quoted to describe the Drift, in his first interview having said "When I first met Robin --became friends with her--it felt like we'd known each other our whole lives. Now we have." Robin is also sometimes quoted with "There's probably nowhere I'd rather be, than in Steve's head."

Of course, with them being in the media, being kickass, and also being part of a program that emphasizes compatibility, there's questions on whether or not they're dating. Because while the Drift isn't romantic by nature, my god people would romanticize it. And when two hot people of opposite genders that are not related to each other in any way are piloting the Jaeger, and are just *gestures to all of stobinisms* assumptions abound.

They're in an interview after their third kill when it happens. It's a few years into their tenure as Pilots, maybe '96? (if the Breach opened in '91 and they were recruited in 93?) The host asks "So. romantically. You two have always denied that attraction, but working so close together, literally in each other's heads, isn't there a chance that has blossomed into something else? Something more?"

They roll their eyes. Steve says "there's nothing more than what Robin and I have. Romance isn't more it's just something else."

Robin goes "Plus..." Before Steve looks at her, eyebrows raised. "I think so" she says, obviously to a question Steve asked that only she heard. "What are they going to do? Fire me?" they both laugh.

He shrugs. "if you're sure..."

Robin hums. "Yes, well. I agree with everything Steve said. The Drift isn't romantic, it's connection. It's knowing. All sorts of relationships can be Drift compatible. Steve's and mine is Platonic. Capital P."

"You gonna actually say it anytime soon?"

"Shut up."

"I dunno it seems like you're stalling."

"Christ, Steve. I'm getting to it. Let me tell the world I'm a lesbian without nagging, goddamn." She turns to the interviewer. "anyways yeah I'm a lesbian so it was never going to be romantic between me and Steve. I'm just obsessed with him."

There's a pause, before they lean into each other and giggle. Steve whispers "good job" that's barely picked up by his mic.

They get a stern talking to by their Marshal but Robin was right. They can't get fired for it. They're too good and pilots are too valuable for plain ol' homophobia to get in the way. (It's seen as a cornerstone moment in queer history, a Jaeger Pilot, someone the world can do nothing but respect, came out! casually. with an already supportive loved one sitting beside her, ready to laugh with her.) And while some people act weird or distant about it, most move past it pretty quick, considering the Midwest team is well respected and there's obviously the bigger problem of underwater aliens trying to kill everyone. You either get over it and work with them or you leave or get people killed.

By the time of the events of the movie, they're old-timers. They've upgraded once to a Mach 3 after a brutal fight with a high category than expected made Midwest Deluge inoperable. They're in Hong-Kong because where else would they be? They need to end this. Just like they needed to see the Upside Down to the end. Their whole lives have been dominated by fighting for their lives and to protect their home and the world. One last push. They aren't even forty yet.

and then the breach is closed and the world is saved and they can retire with their massive pensions from being the best monster killers ever <3

[i-sveikata]

Hey author! How are you? I hope the writing is going well! I have a simple but a deep question. Why did Vegas love Pete? I mean besides the obvious attraction, what made Vegas love Pete? What was about him that was so special?

hey anon!!! im good thanks hope you are too!!!

besides the obvious attraction, i think it's actually pretty close to a lot of the reasons pete has previously analysed in the fic as the source of vegas' obsession with him.

but i think the most significant one is pete has seen the absolute worst of vegas, the monster that he believes he is, and is the only person to not flinch away or treat him with disgust or try to kill him for existing. pete accepts him. in a way that everyone else vegas has ever been around or reached out to hasnt. and hes the first one to not turn their back on him- to just give up on vegas because thats the path of least resistance. like yeah of course pete wants some of his behaviours to improve (and they only did so because vegas realised he didnt want the safehouse dynamic- he wanted something real and was actually receptive to that) but hes not trying to intrinsically change vegas as a person.

for someone who has been treated like a monster all of his life, rejected and spurned and hated to have someone see him as he is without judgement or hatred or pity that is an impossibly powerful thing to vegas. like no lie pete literally is a lifeline extended to vegas and even after everything is still here (ive mentioned in past posts that there have been people who have treated vegas kindly throughout his life- the lady who worked in their kitchens before kan fired her for example- but these are all fleeting encounters before his father caught wind and sent them away to keep vegas isolated).

i think after kan's obsession with porsche's mum and how it twisted him up inside he truly believed that love was such a terrible weakness that he wanted to stamp it out of vegas- wanted to convince him not only that he's incapable of love but that anyone else is also incapable of loving him also.

so vegas understanding of himself is a combo of his father's cruelty and how that has shaped his self worth. so the significance of pete- standing alone outside of all of these preconceived beliefs- and proving them wrong by virtue of still sticking around and not fleeing from him. by not rejecting vegas but treating him with compassion along with the expectation that vegas can improve his behaviour and be in a functioning romantic relationship and have emotional and social connections like this when hes been told that nobody would ever willingly choose him.

even if pete is unable to admit to his own feelings, vegas knows enough to pick up on pete's care of him, his intention to treat him gently when nobody else would have ever thought to before. to bring vegas into his home, around his family and trust that vegas can be accepted amongst them. to have saved his little brother without even needing to be asked- pete shoring up vegas' weaknesses and sharing in his burdens in a way that vegas cant write off as obligation (in the same way he might of how deeply macau loves and admires him like vegas self worth can only tie that up into expectation and obligation of blood ties and family- not love). because after all the horrible things hes done to pete, pete would never be obliged to do a single thing for him ever again- so vegas can't convince himself of petes actions being anything but genuine. all of these acts whilst seeming like small things are HUGE for vegas who has never experienced it before.

so essentially pete makes him feel human in a way that he hasnt felt for a ridiculously long time and being with pete is a huge step in the right direction of vegas finally recognising what hes been taught about himself from his father since childhood might not necessarily be true. and being able to understand that hes done monstrous things (which id argue is the most human part of us all even if we dont always act on it) but he can still grow and be better. petes treatment of him is a lifeline for now but his love of pete is something that proves hes capable of more- and also profoundly affects pete in a way that prevents him from dismissing his own value. even after all the horrible things vegas has inflicted on him - hes also having an extremely positive affect on how pete views his treatment of himself too. like vegas is helping to fill in the gaps that pete left in his own life and reasoned that approach was fine i.e the lack of sexual gratification but especially his lack of value in his own life. the pete at the end of this fic will be a pete that would never obediently agree into sending himself to infiltrate an enemy's household with the possibility of being caught and killed. so they really have both negatively and positively made a colossal impact on each other's lives.

i mean i could go on forever about this lol but i'll stop here because this is getting very long hahaha. hope that answers most of your question!

[ventisettestars]

Happy New Year! This is a fic/art combo for @46-reasonable-hamsters in the 2023 Holiday Truce. The prompts were fun but I adored this one. The art is at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Danny needs adult supervision while his parents are out of town.

wc: 1.2k

Tags: Badger Cereal, Maddie the Cat, it's all fluff, no beta

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

"Daniel." Vlad looked down at Danny from the doorway of his Amity Park mansion, making note of the suitcase beside the boy.

"Hey. So my parents called you a bunch, and Dad said he left a message so that was as good as you agreeing to this." Danny pointed a thumb to indicate the GAV behind him, his father giving them both a thumbs up as Vlad made eye contact.

"Ah, yes, how could I, as his best friend, turn down a sudden request." Vlad's voice was dry. He'd listened to the messages, and hadn't responded back for a reason. They were going to a convention and didn't want to bring Danny along. Too dangerous or something?

"Yeah, you must have been just soooo busy you forgot to call him back." 

"Your father is a fool." Vlad scoffed. 

"Watch it. Anyway, if we just make it look like all is good, I can just fly back home once they are out of view and they won't know a thing." 

"That isn't a bad plan." Vlad waved to Danny's parents, who then began to speed off. "Though seeing as it's the holiday week, you're welcome to stay and enjoy some real food. I'm having some things catered throughout the week as well." 

Danny raised a brow. "This isn't some weird 'show me true holiday' scheme to make me want to be your son again?" 

"No, if that is the outcome, I wouldn't dislike it. But it is not the plan. Simply, just a lousy time of year to spend alone. Shall we call it Truce early?"

Danny seemed to ponder a bit. "I guess as long as you don't try to force actual holiday cheer at me, warm meals would be a perk." 

"Splendid." Vlad grabbed Danny's suitcase telekinetically and had it follow the both of them inside. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

The room Vlad led Danny to was weirdly plain. A normal guest room with a TV and balcony facing away from the city with a rather nice view of the sky. 

"The room faces the sunrise, so I'd suggest closing the curtains if you don't want the sun in your eyes first thing in the morning." Vlad set down the suitcase near the wardrobe. "My room is directly below this one if you need anything."

"You didn't take the top floor with the best view?" Danny walked over to check out the view.

"It was originally, but I grew tired of having to go one more floor up each night."

Danny let out a little snort. "That's super lazy of you when we can both fly."

"I'll admit it's partially to do with the lady I employ growing older as well. I'll introduce you to her when she comes in the next few days." 

"Huh, Okay." Danny didn't expect that from Vlad. 

"I'll leave you to it. You know where the Kitchen is, so help yourself to anything."

Danny watched as Vlad left. It made him suspicious on how non-confrontational Vlad was being, but he settled into the room and started sending messages to his friends.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

A few nights into Danny's stay, things continued to go smoothly. Vlad left Danny to his own devices most the time, only interaction around meals or a few times when Danny was bored. 

Most the time Danny spent playing with Maddie the Cat, or checking out Vlad's lab since quote 'I've nothing in the lab you haven't seen before while we fought'. 

Danny wouldn't admit it was nice to be able to move around without having to keep an eye open for ghost traps at all hours of the day.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

"Aw, hey there Maddie, whatcha got there?"

The cat merped from where she rolled in her tangle of yarn. Danny took the thread of yarn from her by phasing her out of it, starting to ball it best he could. It was longer still and trailed up the staircase. He followed it to one of the many rooms that Vlad had on the second floor. 

Looking into the room was a given. Danny looked in confusion as he was greeted by a wall of yarn. Shelves contained a well organized gradient of yarn. Vlad sat at a desk with his laptop in front of him, a pair of knitting needles with half a scarf floated next to him. 

The two half ghosts stared at each other, the only sound in the room was the clicking of the needles followed by Maddie jumping onto Vlad's lap. 

Danny's eyes drifted to the striped scarf, that matched the sweater that Danny had assumed Vlad bought, but no. It was the same colors, and not that Danny knew anything about producing sweaters, he's sat through enough of Sam's gripping about matching all the shades of black. 

"Ah, Maddie had this." Danny held up the yarn he collected on his way to the room. 

"I was wondering why it'd gotten so quiet." 

"So, you knit?" 

Vlad sighed and pointed to the other chair in the room. Danny took it and got comfy, yarn still in hand. 

"I do. It started as a means to control something telepathically while distracted. The lady next to me in the hospital back when- Well she would be knitting while doing just about anything but eating to keep her hands from going stiff." 

"So you do it with your mind? Doesn't seem the same." 

"No, but at the time I needed something to help fine tune my control. It was only one of the things I did, mind you." 

"But you kept at it cause you liked it?"

"Indeed." Vlad barely even glanced at his work as he switched colors. 

"What other things did you do?"

"It was before I made my fortune, so small things. Cleaned, dishes, puzzles-those were the worst cause I needed to have a visual most times- sometimes folded clothes. Once I'd even tried to use telekinesis to pick up the floor rather than vacuum."

Danny laughed. "How'd that end up going?"

"Terribly. I just made the floor intangible so that the dirt would go into the apartment below me."

Danny laughed. "That's evil."

"Well, they vacuumed at 6 in the morning, so they deserved it." Vlad followed Danny's gaze to his knitting. "Would you like to try it?"

"Wha-"

"You can even use the yarn that Maddie summoned you here with." 

"I guess it couldn't hurt to try." 

5 minutes later Danny was about to stab someone with the needles. "How do you like this?"

Vlad tsked. "You've hardly even started. I never took you for a quitter." 

"I'm not quitting." Danny bristled. "It's just so- It looks ugly." 

"It's because you're just learning. You're good enough with your powers this should be cake walk."

"You say that, but I just throw things."

"Then this is good practice. Developing fine motor skills has no downsides."

"Fine. I'll finish this damn scarf. It's gunna be for your cat." 

"Ah, nice and small then. She will love it."

Danny growled and put all his focus back into making the needles move.

End notes:

The prompt was: Someone stumbles across Vlad practicing his ‘hidden’ hobby—knitting.

And I just couldn't get the idea of that being the one thing Danny would end up letting Vlad mentor him in.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Whump Intro

Hi, hello! 

Um, I’ve been avoiding this intro bc I am a shy awkward hermit that usually just lurks and likes stuff, but that doesn’t really work on Tumblr so here I am! Plus I wanted to use Whumptober to force myself into sharing my writing and figured it might be useful to introduce myself first.

You can call me starlit, or anna, or hey you, I don’t really care lol. She/her pronouns. I love reading fantasy & fantasy romance, writing, and playing RPG video games when I have the time (usually fantasy based-are we sensing a theme here? 😂)

Before we get to more about me nonsense-

Acknowledgements!

Shout out to @i-can-even-burn-salad

For beta reading for me and then being brave enough to share her stories with me. And for sucking me into Tumbler lol. And for talking to me all the time and making me laugh. And for being such a great person. <3

I love her writing and stories so much. Please, please, check her writing out. It's worth it, I promise! Bring tissues though!!

Best internet friend ever trophy, where is it? I need to send it… oh, there it is. Here you go, Elli! 🏆🎉💜

I haven't had the opportunity to check out many other blogs yet, bc someone has such an extensive back catalog 👀 😂 but tagged below is the one I have read. I devoured Traces in one day because it was so good. Highly recommend!

Traces by @whumping-in-the-wings - Thanks for writing such a great story! Can't wait to see what happens next :)

(Obligatory disclaimer: heed the warnings. They are well-tagged.)

I've got my eye on several other blogs once I have a little more time. Hope ya'll like spam likes/reblogs/comments, bc I'm a bit enthusiastic 😂

Ok, back to me, I suppose. Under the cut 🤣

I tend to use emojis excessively, but don’t expect me to know the meaning of them beyond face-value expressions. I shamelessly claim elder millennial status as an excuse (which means I’m 18+, obviously).

I’m audhd (combo autistic/adhd), but I didn’t find that out until earlier this year, so I’m still very used to tiptoeing around people and holding myself back out of self-preservation. Working on that though, bc I’m tired of that shit. 

Erm, also… fuck is my favorite word. If you don’t like foul language, I might not be a great fit for you. 

I joined Tumblr about a month ago, so I am still learning and ask for your patience. (I will probably be learning for quite some time, tbh) If I’m doing something wrong, please let me know so I can fix it.

Asks are welcome, although not sure what you would ask me lol. With asks, keep in mind that I’m literal as fuck and context is everything :D

As is fairly common from what I’ve seen in this community, I’ve daydreamed whump for as long as I can remember, and it’s nice to:

1. know what to call it 🥲

2. find someplace where I don’t feel weird about getting it out of my head and putting it on digital paper. Well, not quite as weird haha.

I’m super nervous to post on here, but that’s what I’m here for, so… deep breaths 😶

Likes: 

*Fantasy whump 

Magic w/ consequences

Captivity

Torture/punishments 

Restraints

Dub/non-con 

Emotional whump/angst 

Defiant whumpee

Breaking whumpee to the point of hopeless despair before building them back up again

Revenge against whumper 

Creepy/intimate whumper 

Named characters 

Recovery arcs, bonus points for romance <3

Eventual Happy endings after copious amounts of suffering

I write what I like, btw. I have written explicit romance previously, but I’m not sure if I will here.

I will try to be diligent with my warnings, but as those are new for me as well, I may miss some. Please let me know if I do and I will fix it! (within reason, don't ask me to tag something like sadness. that's a typical emotion. extremes like depression, yes. sadness, no.)

* Disclaimer: I will only ever write fantasy. I prefer to read fantasy as well, but I have made exceptions when I get the tropes I want :D 

Squicks: 

I’m willing to try most anything once. 

In general though, I tend to avoid cannibalism, major character death, hard-core conditioning, whumper redemptions, bad caretakers 

I’m excited to join the community here and looking forward to participating in Whumptober! I have no idea how well I’ll keep up since I only decided to write for it 3 days before the event, but I’m willing to try 😅

Even if I can’t keep up during October's events, I do plan to finish the storyline and there will be a happy end :D  

Fuck, this got long. Sorry!!!

See you all around! 💜

[chibivesicle]

Hey!

I know I’ve already left a few asks here(I just love your meta okay?) and I had an idea- I saw a comment on the r/Trigun subreddit that Stampede should have picked up where the 98 anime left off, and after reading your thoughts on how you would fix Stampede, here’s my idea; Trigun Stampede but instead of a “reimagining” it’s a direct sequel to the 98 series but pulls from Maximum and instead of just picking and choosing stuff it keeps MOSTLY faithful but reworks and maybe streamlines different parts so it fits in with the timeline of the 98 anime and where it ended, picking up where the last episode of the anime left off.

I just wanted to know your thoughts and how you would make it work?

Hello there,

Thanks for another question! I honestly, would have preferred a full redo of the manga, but maybe keeping the first 5 episodes of the '98 with world building "filler" episodes and then dove into a more manga accurate story. The beauty of those first 5 were it takes him until that 5th episode to draw his gun and fire. The build up and tension was perfect and matched the side story in the manga where Vash uses a target to perfectly hit people so they don't die. I however, would add in more non-canon plot points with Meryl and Milly to keep the magic sauce that was Vash, Wolfwood, Meryl and Milly. These are easy tweaks that could have been added into a refreshed version. Honestly, the quartet character dynamics was great.

The '98 anime did the best with what it could do, but a more streamlined less wandering version of Trigun Maximum would likely have resonated well with older fans. For example there were some random chapters that were action packed but really didn't serve the plot (especially around the Eye of Michael) and Wolfwood got some side chapters which did flesh out his character more but lead to further wandering. I think a major problem with this was the fact they either had to make a 12 episode series or 24 to match current broadcasting 'standards' which was not the case with the '98 anime operating on the considerably older model of the 26 episode season. Though in that case they were animating with cels and Studio Orange is 3D CG. I have no idea how the time/effort per episode compares.

With how long the manga was, I think Stampede needed at least 2 or 3 seasons (say minimum of the 12 episodes per season) or 2 seasons with the (12 + 12 combo like for Spy x Family etc. giving a total of 48 which, damn would likely get the job done).

It got the 'Cliff Notes' version of events and the weird pacing shows. The major problem is that the story never had time to breathe and it just needed to be longer so it could have a more natural progression. Too many things were blink and miss it or sure you totally got X b/c if you squint you'll understand a complex concept.

It is clear that the predominantly (American) English language fandom was expecting the FMA Brotherhood treatment. That was not this and I can honestly see how disappointing it was. For me, I rewatched it back in December and was pleasantly surprised at how well it held up and fun it was. Reading the manga filled in some gaps a but also left me confused and finding a more manga accurate anime would have made my happy. We all know this is not what happened. They went in a sci fi direction (confirmed by more than one interview of staff on the project) created a whole new world and concept. I have also really noticed but will have no stats to back this up; but there is a clear demographic divide on how Stampede was received. I hate to generalize, but it seems dudes who are mainly straight cis-het men, who watched the anime a long time ago (and are super anime watchers consuming way more than I do in short periods) seem to give it the most positive reviews. They say it seems the same, sure it looks different and they kinda sorta miss Milly but its fine otherwise. Maybe I'm wrong since those are also the people who - not surprisingly - have the loudest voices on the internet be it Youtube channels and general prominence. However, as soon as you shift to other viewers there is a lot more concern. Many women are upset at the poor female characterization across the board in Trigun where all of the women were made shadows of their former selves. None of my female friends who watched the original enjoyed what happened to the women in Stampede. Queer fans also seem to have a more negative view with so many of the gay, trans, non-binary aspects of the original cast now gone. [Legato, Elendira, Zazie] 'Cause Legato barely appeared and his huge crush on Knives is not the same as in the manga. Elendira - gone and Zazie hasn't gotten good characterization as well. I'm not saying all people of one demographic can be correlated with their feelings towards it, but it does seem to have general vibes. And it is hard to tell something like this without a statistically robust analysis but it is what I've noticed. Maybe I'm wrong, and I'm toodling around in my small patch of the web but that's what I've observed. Not many straight cis het men are like, "Oh yeah, I really noticed how the female characters are either dead mother figures or cute uwu waifus or literal children. I wonder how other viewers who miss strong female representation now feel?"

I'm not here to stoke a culture war and virtue signal or anything like that. Nor am I falling into the woke SJW whatever you call it. I've sat through enough actual [and incredibly depressing] seminars about studies on the role of diversity and representation in fields (mine specifically being STEM) and when I learned that for women to have proper representation in biology textbooks, it would take another 100 years, I cringed. When you learned at the current rate it would take 500 years for black scientists to be properly represented - it - just - well, fuck. Feel free to think about this for any group that are not cis-het white men. And then feel icky and sad.

Now, is this fair to place such high standards on a product made in a specific cultural context for entertainment? I mean, likely not, the whole point is to have fun and make money through merch.

Buuuuuuuttttt . . . .

I know that diversity in media has a long way to go and it was sad to see a diverse manga lose that diversity in the more recent version. Until media companies and production studios and teams 'get it' they won't realize that there is a market for it. Which is hilarious since the original was way more diverse and interesting than Stampede. Seriously, why are there no black people in Stampede? This leaves me scratching my head in confusion since Kekkai Sensen has an even more diverse cast! Nightow clearly writes these types of characters on purpose. It didn't get lost when Bones did the first two seasons of Kekkai Sensen. Hell, the inherent diversity of Kekkai Sensen is literally written into actual dialogue in the chapter/OVA King of the King of the Restaurants.

I didn't mean to fall into a rabbit hole, but I'm really thinking there are going to be very different responses and 'fix-it' solutions for what fans had wanted to see or hoped they'd see with this. Okay, I'm going to shut up now. But yeah, I'd do a early '98 anime with manga hybrid as my reboot for Trigun.

[20dollarlolita]

Hey! I love you blog. It's inspired me to get back into sewing, something i did frequently as a child. Unfortunately, that was all on my mom's machine, and I'm now looking down the problem of buying myself something beginner friendly that will be able to scale with me a bit as I level back up.

You're easily the person in my circles who's got the best read on sewing machines. Would you have any specific suggestions for machines to look at and put on a holiday wish list sort of thing?

Thanks no matter what, and best wishes

I have way too much to say about sewing machines. Generally, when helping someone pick a sewing machine, there's a few things that limit the conversation. First of all, I generally have them there, and we're only looking at machines that my store sells. We also have information like price point, how often it's being used, where its being stored, and how often it's transported to another location. We can find out what their feelings are about different brands and what accessories they want to get. Usually, after roughly 15 minutes, we have several models to choose from, where my customer can go into the fine details of different models within a similar price point.

I don't have any of that here, so I've now written three different versions of this post, all of which are very long and not particularly useful.

So here goes for round 4) Part a, the best machine for you is the one that allows you to make the things you want to make. The best way to make the things you want to make is to find a machine that allows you to do the things you most often do without frustration.

The best machine to grow into as one who sews (side note: it's really annoying that sewer and sewer are spelled the same) is one that will still be working very well after using it for several years. There's a whole lot of advice out there and on this blog about buying a used machine, but with a lot of old machines you just don't have a way of knowing that they won't cascade on you and have one part fail after another. You also can't tell if that will happen with most mass market Singer and Brother machines, so. I'd avoid all of them.

It's a common misconception that expensive machines are harder to use. After a certain price point, some of the expense of creating the machine is put into making sure that the machine feels effortless to use. As an example, my sewing/embroidery combo machine doesn't need to have the sewing tension set, because instead of telling the machine what tension to use, I tell it what fabric and technique I'm working with. It then sets the tension for the correct stitch. This is undeniably more complex than a wheel with numbers on it, but is much less effort to actually think about. Higher-end machines will allow you to customize a large portion of the machine, so that if you mainly use the same eight stitches, they're present and easy to find from your home screen. Less expensive computerized machines, where the maker shoved every stitch they could find into the machine to make it more attractive on the store shelf, often are very difficult to select a stitch with. You're frequently sorting through a huge number of unnecessary stitches to find basic things like your tricot stitch. Basically, if you give Brother $15,000 for a machine and it's hard to use, they really failed in their job. A good machine will make the everyday features very easy to use and front and center, and the less frequently used features will be present and out of the way until you need them.

In some ways, you can tell how long of a life a machine is expected to have by how willing companies are to stand behind it. In addition to checking the manufacturer's warranty, see if any of your nearby dealers who sell it are willing to sell an extended warranty or a protection/replacement plan for it. For example, at my old job, we'd sell protection plans for all of our machines except Singer machines. Singer machines broke too often for us to not lose money on a service contract, as the cost of service and parts was invariably greater than the cost of the contract. Yes, most machines have 10 years warrantied on manufacturer defects, but I've seen Singer claim that a problem wasn't a manufacturer defect because it only showed up after 15 hours of sewing, so clearly it was the customer's fault. There's no real effective recourse if the brand decides to do that, so see if anyone who isn't the brand is willing to put their name on the line to defend the machine.

Also, a lot of the entry level machines are internet models, meaning that dealerships are allowed to sell them at Minimum Advertised Price over the internet. Before buying a machine, find a dealer near you and call them to ask how satisfied people are with the machine and how often it's returned. Also, if you're near the dealership, many dealerships can offer you a lower than MAP price if you call or visit the store. They're not allowed to advertise the price lower than MAP (hence the name), but they're allowed to sell it for less. It's a weird situation but it's how dealerships work. So yeah, if it's a real store and you call to ask about a machine you might buy through their site, you'll often find someone willing to help you. (If someone really helps you over the phone, it's also not rude to ask if they will get credit for the sale since they helped you so much. This costs you nothing to ask and sometimes means the salesperson can get commission on the sale, so it's a free way to give a helpful person some money).

Almost all online sewing tutorials can be followed using the cheapest machine that my store sells. I also went through all of costume design school only using features that were in a basic computerized model. Having a really high-end sewing machine is not the norm and so most books don't expect it. Also, many books about sewing were written many years before really modern computerized machines existed.

A good machine for growing into is one where you have a good balance between being wide-throat and being portable. The more space you have to the right of the needle (the throat), the more easily you can fit bigger projects. However, the more space you have to the right of the needle, the bigger your machine needs to be. For someone with no specialty sewing space, the biggest machine I see that's popular is the Baby Lock Lyric (or Lyric-sized machines like the Soprano or Brilliant, or the Brother variants that are like 900qsomething; i'm super bad at remembering Brother machine names). Machines larger than that often don't get used just because clearing a space on your kitchen table is pretty tough. So that max size is those bbylock/bro machines, the Viking 10" throat like the sapphires and topaz, Janome Skyline series, and Bernina 500 series. There's a lot of machines smaller than those that could also be good grow-into machines, but that's my personal opinion for the max size.

You also will need to decide on some features that might be important. Embroidery (in a hoop) is a big one, but decorative stitching (no hoop) is another. If you're going to be doing a lot of decorative stitching and fonts, you will get more flexibility out of a side-motion feed. If no side-motion feed, a 9mm zigzag would be nice. If you do more utility sewing, a nice range of attachments that you can afford would be a good thing. These would be things like feet and binders.

If you want embroidery, and you're planning it for a grow-in machine, try to get a hoop larger than 5x7. Many premade designs need a hoop a step above a 5x7. If you're getting into embroidery, and you want to make your own designs, you'll also need to budget for software.

If you're on a budget more accessible to the average person, and aren't looking to spend over $700 on a machine, here's what I recommend looking for:

If it's a mechanical machine, how long has the model been around, and how many are still around today? This can be tough, because models can be renamed while still being the exact same machine. Entry level Babylocks and Bernettes, as well as some Vikings, are often made by Janome. This means a machine model might be traded between some brands. My best example of this is the Bbylock Zeal, which used to be the Molly, and was a Janome before that. If it keeps being used, it's probably a good model.

Sew on it if at all possible. See how it feels to use all the features.

Check which brands offer the same features, and what other brands are offering at the same price point. Janome has their own version of the Bernette B37 that doesn't have the Bernette housing, and it sometimes is $100 cheaper or more expensive.

Brother and Baby Lock have machines made in the same factories. If you like a machine, check to see if there's a comparable match in the other brand. They'll often be the same price but might be bundled with different accessories. Personally, if it's a Brother that doesn't have a Baby Lock equivalent, I'd really check reviews before buying.

If you're going to grow into it, see how easy it is to do buttonholes. You'll probably want to do them in the future. Not only how easy it is to do one, but to do several identical ones.

If you're talking to a salesperson, tell them you're looking to grow into it. Depending on your business, they can sometimes offer different kinds of deals for that. For example, if I'm selling something that comes with a bundle, I can see if I can substitute free thread, which will be used up in the next 2 years, with forged scissors that can be sharpened and last you 10 years. We can't always make huge financial changes, but telling us what you're looking for can allow us to make what changes we can to help it suit your needs. Sometimes people don't want to tell us everything about what they want because they think it'll be a sign of weakness that we'll use to rip you off. The fact is that in most sales, the customer will find the machine that they want, and all we did was allow them to see the features they need. The customer knows what they want and will buy what they want. We don't need to do skeevy tricks to force them into a machine they don't want. Give us that information. We're here to help.

If you have a <$700 budget and you need a computerized machine, the Janome i forgot the numbers but I think it's the one above the 3100QDCT is a pretty good entry level one. If you're quilting then the Pfaff Passport with the built in walking foot is great. If you're going mechanical to save money, the Baby Lock Zeal is a really good amount of features for hte price point, and I think is one of the best values out there. Bernina, Viking, and Pfaff usually use nonstandard presser feet, so remember that if you want to use specialty attachments in the future.

Larger budget and the Bernette 70 series is nice, especially if you want to later upgrade to a Bernina 400-700 series since the user interface is the same. Baby Lock you can't go wrong with the Lyric, Brother has the 3600something that's similar to the BBlyock Vesta if you want embroidery. I have a Viking Topaz 50 that I'm very fond of.

Anyway, if you want to narrow that very large $200-$4000 price range down, throw in some more things you sew and a vague price point, and I can get even more specific.

[jrueships]

anon who asked me to post some of the nba player sun+moon combos that make me feel different degrees of insane.. grah grawh. unprompted and unelaborated for now. will reblog with more later because there is always more

I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL, idk if it's real or not & idc. it is fun & i like feeling like i am right abt things (i never am). leave me to my delusions please. im joking on these but also am i really

kyle lowry: ☀️ Aries, 🌙 virgo

what a bitch combo, people can't staaand you, huh! one moment you're having friends <3 you're having fun <3!! the next you're having a moment where you accidentally snap and regret everything but not fast enough for your friends and now all those friends of yours that made you so happy are gone and in the wind <3 with the only one left to blame being the only one left all alone : you <3 !!!

Ja Morant: ☀️ leo, 🌙 leo

do you even have your own personality at this point if we take away every outside influence youve tacked on to protect it or what. but hey, keep live, breathing, dying to the method acting, right 🥰 ?? cause when they hate you, it's not really hating YOU, huh? it's actually pretty genius !! ... i don't think YOU even know who's the real you at this point anyways, so no one will EVER hate the you you really are inside!! AND!!!!! they won't ever Love It either !

phenomenal acting ja! you're nothing without entertaining, as always 🥰 !! 🩵🩵

Anthony Edwards: ☀️ leo, 🌙 aquarius

'im not like OTHER girls'

* posts video of him being H*mophobic. *

Draymond Green: ☀️ pisces, 🌙 gemini

you could murder someone and still be the victim ( you have . )

JJJ: ☀️ virgo, 🌙 scorpio

the face of a man that would die if he couldn't throw in his stupid two cents into a fountain that specifically has a sign against throwing two cents in it .

Pg: ☀️ taurus, 🌙 leo

outside you're lovable until the wrong person (a person who actually DOESNT want to feed into the luxury of your own ego, WHAAAT😱😱?!??? NO FUCKIN WAY 🙀!!! ... AUTONOMY ⁉️⁉️) spends too much time with you for them to realize that you're actually a piece of immature shit. not even solid, liquid. the worst kind of asshole is an unpredictable asshole. because they can hurt the hardest and get hurt the hardest ( when it's least expected ). BUT YOU DONT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT TOO MUCH if you actively distance everyonee who DONT automatically feed into your own delusions and only surround yourself with people that do or make you feel secure to the fact that theyll never ever call you out enough for you to actually acknowledge how much your shit stinks!! because you devoted too much loyalty to them for that to even HAPPPENN!!! it's a COMPLETELY HEALTHY and MUTUAL and TOTALLY NOT CODEPENDENT relationship ‼️ they compliment YOU, feed into YOU, you give them what they want, work for them for whatever they want, you provide enough where they feel too weak alone without it.... or at least not Whole thanks to you merging to their side like a parasite BUT A HELPFUL ONE!!!! .. so they have no choice BUT to excuse your gluttony and your selfishness and stubbornness because man!! you just work SO hard, huh :( !! scorpios just HAVE to understand because they work just like you!! virgos too!! and cancers just HAVE to feel bad because you've done SOOOO much for them ALREADY , haven't YOU ? what a good relationship . it's so . ' loyal . '

they can't leave you because that'll tear out too much of the life YOU gave them !! they can't LIVE without you (now)!! and you know that because you made SURE of that !!!!!!! because you ONLY EVER actually try whenever it's what You want. if others end up benefiting from it as well. sure. whatever. as long as it always adds to Your wants and Your demands, they can have their little cookies or struggles or whatever other people face that aren't you .

( i just Know it eats him up everyday that he can't include cancer zodiac dame into his little circle of Close Friends That Are Close Friends Because They Agree With Me. i just Know It. )

double the loyalty with double the selfishness too! but you make sure only to hang out with the people that you KNOW need that loyalty so they can value it while excusing the .. certain cons that come with it. hopefully excusing it to the point of pretending it doesn't even exist!! that would be GREAT 😁😁!! ... considering that's the entire reason you did all this work in the First Fucking Place .

you're such a HEROOO, and if you can't be that... at least you can be mentioned as the sidekick! eitherway, you're getting the limelight you always work yourself (more like others) to view you in! congrats pg ! you really EARNED it.

deserved can be up to debate .

but wait, no actually. because you never let anyone in too deep that ever Dares debate with you! so nevermind . wow . congrats .

Deebo: ☀️ Leo, 🌙 Libra

leave me alone right now (DO N O T leave me alone i will CRY ) i just need some time to myself (WHY ARE YOU LEAVING M E ALONE?????? with TIME !?!?? to MYSELF????? WHOSE PERSONALITY CAN I BASE MINE OFF OF WHEN I'M ALONE ?@???? my OWN??!?!?!???) please just leave me alone or i might say something i don't mean ( please don't leave me alone or i might do something i might not mean ) i don't want to look clingy ( but let's be honest..) don't make me regret ( please )

Kd: ☀️ libra 🌙taurus

Keldon: ☀️ libra 🌙 scorpio

oh i just KNOW that preservation lying is Prominent and Delusional

Lebron: ☀️ capricorn 🌙 aries

all the achievements you already have pale when it comes to chasing after the unattainable. Living and yearning like a Gatsby

[mcrcki]

♥ closed ♥

closing this on 2/10/23 solely so i can be prepared for the event starting !! if we discuss writing any more starters , we totally can in dms , but for now any unplotted starter requests are closed !!

wednesday, bloody wednesday 💕 happy mini event, hidden!! super excited to get this one going with y’all, we know you will have a total blast!! i’m gonna throw together a quick combo plotting / starter call for the upcoming mini event here! just a heads up, i will be trying to focus on these plots / the pairings over my other threads. you’ll still get them, but i wanna get the mini event stuff moving at a decent pace once we start! i don’t plan on having any of my girls go unaware atm, but i am open to any and all injury plots (minor or major) and if you need someone to be unalived, hmu !! that said, y’all know my rules for the combo move here : LIKE for a plotting message on discord. RESPOND for starters. if you don’t specify who the starter is for, i’ll ignore you. and please do not request more than FOUR starters per writer, at the moment. wanna make sure i can write with everyone!! but without further ado, here’s what my babes are doing this valentine’s day

** crossed out means they are queued

                                                      𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂

chibiusa tsukino || sailor moon || unaffected - ( 1 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. lowkey expected something Insane™ to happen while she’s been here, so this was honestly not that big of a shock. will be in full sailor chibimoon form, doing whatever she can to help. if you need assistance, she’s the senshi for you!

-- plots : major / minor injuries, protecting someone, offering a place to hide, stopping someone from attacking.

usagi tsukino ( swan )

daniela dimitrescu || resident evil 8 || paired w. viscount tewkesbury - ( 3 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. decided to put themselves in the ring to get a free meal. had always intended to kill their date, but hey, this is just an added bonus, makes this that much more fun. will be going after anyone who looks like them, and anyone who stands in her way. 

-- plots : unaliving someone, injuring other people, conflict outside of the dates, pretending to be helpless to turn on someone, all around menace.

bela dimitrescu ( kasey )

yoon chi woo ( atlas )

cassandra dimitrescu ( jodie )

emma vanity || harry potter : marauders era || paired w. nancy wheeler - ( 2 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. was trying to get settled into the city and thought this would be an easy was to learn a little more about it, and if someone else was paying, who was she to say no to dinner? but now? this is way more fun. she thrives on this energy and will be having far too much fun with it. 

-- plots : unaliving someone, injuring other people, helping her friends/strangers with their attacks, offering shelter just to turn on them

rabastan lestrange ( alex )

alecto carrow ( cherry )

leia organa || star wars || paired w. han solo - ( 4 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. if she kills her husband twice, they cancel each other out right? like no one can hold her accountable for it if she just.. rights the wrong from the halloween gala? that’s how it should work at least, in her mind. will be full sith vibes again, i’m so sorry to anyone who gets in her way. she’s gonna try to control it, but really, i don’t think that’ll last for long.

-- plots : major / minor injuries , offering help to anyone who needs it (good or bad), someone trying to talk her down from this, injuring someone who does stand in her way

han solo ( mario )

yennefer of vengerberg ( alex )

jacen solo ( moon )

luke skywalker ( cherry )

marlene mckinnon || harry potter : marauders era || unaffected - ( 2 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. marlene is really having a full on ‘what the FUCK is happening!!!!!!!!!” moment. she really thought it was just fucking valentine’s day, already a bad holiday, and now she’s in full on order mode trying to stop people from committing a murder in the middle of the national mall. what was in the wine, my guys!!!

-- plots : major/minor injuries, offering people shelter, fighting against people trying to attack someone, penelope mitchell doppleganger attacks

emmeline vance ( mario )

sirius black ( jodie )

omega archeron || star wars : bad batch || paired w. renesmee cullen - ( 4 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. omega honestly?? kinda loves this. they don’t get to really cut loose all that much and not for nothing, this is a nice break from having to always be the good guy. they’ll definitely be going a little wild once they realized their date can’t be hurt that badly, but big rip to any other jessie mei li fcs :)

-- plots : injuring others, major / minor injuries, helping other people look for their dates, convincing people that this isn’t that bad

jill roberts ( swan )

yuri plisetsky ( ollie )

amber ( sunny )

billy loomis ( alex )

pj halliwell || charmed ‘98 || paired w. oliver mckinnon - ( 1 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. pj doesn’t have the active powers to actually kill someone, she’s definitely a maiming kind of person, but as much as she hates it, she kinda likes that they’re finally able to cut loose a little. they’ve always been The Good Kid, and getting to really let their powers shine now is really freeing. 

-- plots : injuring others, major / minor injuries, fighting people trying to stop them, someone to talk sense into her

oliver mckinnon ( sam )

rosemary winters || resident evil - shadows of rose || paired w. mob - ( 3 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. my moldy gal, they are finally getting a real hang on their powers and then this happens. lowkey paired with someone else who is op so like, it’s fine, it’ll probably be fine. gonna definitely be testing out the upper limits of their powers, so, so sorry to anyone who gets in the way

-- plots : injuring others, major / minor injuries, attacking people who are in the way, helping other people find their dates/injure them, maybe someone to talk them down (doubtful it’ll work)

chu wanning ( ollie )

mob ( sunny )

charles xavier ( alex )

rowena ravenclaw || harry potter - founders era || paired w. hunter - ( 2 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. rowena is a very good witch, not just morally but in skill as well. she will be struggling A Lot with this turn in her mind, and will be doing what she can to avoid hunter. will be turning to people to help keep her away, to keep him safe. she isn’t going to become something she hates. she has to fight it

-- plots : major/minor injuries, someone to lock her up, someone to try and talk sense into her, someone to corrupt her into just giving in

heron lyptus ( moon )

helena ravenclaw ( jodie )

sella palpatine || star wars || paired w. allana solo - ( 1 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. was looking forward to one!! normal!! date!!!!!!! for the love of literally everything could she have one normal date with her girlfriend, PLEASE. very much on the run, knows that allana could hurt her faster than sella could ever land a punch on them. big ‘this isn’t you’ vibes. someone please help her out, she is not going to win that fight.

-- plots : major/minor injuries, someone to offer shelter, someone to help her fight, josephine langford doppleganger attacks

samara palpatine ( moon )

sophie hatter || howl’s moving castle || unaffected - ( 2 / 4 )

she/they pronouns. they’re getting a much needed, much deserved Break. they are unaffected by this, having expected this day to be a giant rush for the shop she couldn’t take time off to go on any kind of date. real smart vibes in hindsight. will absolutely be offering help/shelter to those who may need it. if you seem dangerous, they’ll kick you out. they do not need that drama rn.

-- plots : minor / major injuries, offering shelter, offering help, trying to convince people to calm down, jessie mei li doppleganger attacks, someone to raid the shops?

lumine ( kasey )

juliet capulet ( atlas )

tatum riley || scream ‘96 || paired w. fred weasley - ( 3 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. girl is reaching final girl status no matter what it takes at this point, she is not going to be someone’s victim. v much willing to kick peoples asses to succeed in that. will be using her self defense training to beat up her date and then booking it to the nearest shelter. any tom holland fcs will also be getting some kind of punch thrown at them if they get in the way. 

-- plots : major / minor injuries, someone to offer shelter, abigail cowen doppleganger attacks, other tom holland fcs that she can beat up, someone to run with her, final girl tag team vibes

buffy summers ( swan )

stu macher ( moon )

josh washington ( blue )

victoria sutherland || twilight || unaffected - ( 4 / 4 )

she/her pronouns. best. valentine’s. day. ever. seriously, what more could she have asked for? the whole city is a total mess and she just gets to run around and grab a bite just to blame it on someone else? that’s so hot and please understand how annoying she and james are going to be about it. if you want someone to be unalived, she’s your gal. if you want a fight, she’s happy to oblige. this is victoria unaffected and just having a great time.

-- plots : unaliving someone, helping someone find their date, convincing people to just let go and have fun, being an all around terrible influence but at least she’s fun!

bree tanner ( swan )

riley biers ( mario )

mo ran ( kasey )

james witherdale ( kasey )

[mindrole]

some disorganized thoughts under the cut because formatting is a mess and for once i feel shame about leaving a mess laying around the dashboard (polite bow)

as you would guess, it is CoM discussion as always. it's quite long, and its partly about the literary parallels from the picture of dorian gray! (but towards the end theres a lot of speculation from my brain and not based on much also, its a mixed bag)

i appreciate any feedback!!!

thinking about it now. i think the obvious combo most people are thinking of right off the bat is

dorian = miwa lord henry = rui basil = shiharu

to some extent, sybil = dita and james = eigha

(though i am almost certain there is no "eigha" in rosemaria, its just shiharu in his full consciousness hamming it up because he's been put in the eigha role by, presumably, some kind if internal rule in rosemaria, some one that seems to block miwa from being mentioned without distorting. it's different from miwa, who seems to be confused and/or dissassociated... its hard to write this post and gloss over details but i will write my thoughts properly eventually. a lot of this hinges on findings in miwa's apartment... idk, either way, this shit is fucking weird)

probably that second part is from me, but. idk. i forgor. and this is probably true and the most direct role assignment there is

but im also thinking... what if it was a mess? since c0e had several possible assignments that could be true at any time, therefore i also feel like this can be true at the same time as the first:

dorian = shiharu lord henry = azuma basil = miwa

hear me out. its not too out there because there's actual evidence to it in the interlude but, you know

we know miwa is obsessed with shiharu. we don't know the nature of this obsession (lol) (lmao), but he keeps hydrangeas in his dressing room apparently (lol). my own guess is that its admiration mixed in with "the fragments are not normal about the haradas (and the utsugis) ever". to have such an obsession form with such little contact over such a short period of time— first report where miwa and taka discuss the eigha recast is dated to february 2018, filming had not begun yet, and presumably miwa hadn't properly met him as a result— is quite bonkers to me. but all fragments are frankly quite mentally ill, who cares, he's in show business too playing a 3D anime boy his brain is absolutely beyond fried at this point.

the interesting thing is that there is evidence that shiharu is obsessed with him too, but in a very different way. is it different...? i don't know, we don't know what miwa thinks exactly so i'm going off of my own mental image. which is miwa admires him for whatever reason, maybe he's exceeded his expectations and can hold his own as an actor for example, who knows. but it is different.

now i said earlier that i was almost certain "there is no eigha in rosemaria". i think it's because if you look at the eigha quotes in the com page, i think they are incredibly strange. eyeballing them they ARE quite chuunibyou. they're very intimidating demon lord-ish. now im not gonna translate stuff because honestly im incredibly wary of misrepresenting the work so i won't attempt to transcribe anything, though given i'll talk about it from my interpretation it's probably fine even without. anyway, when you think about it, this especially is strange:

hey, "eigha", why are you talking about miwa?!! that's clearly miwa isnt it (though i did not notice this until it was pointed out to me...tehepero)!!! eigha should be concerned about dita!! isn't this common sense?! at first, i assumed it was eigha being sentient, reaching past the curtain or fourth wall to possess either actor who portrayed him in an effort to stop ditasword from ending, trapping miwa so he can be dita forever... but it recently dawned on me that the culprit behind miwa teita's attack in july 2018 cannot be anyone but harada shiharu!!!

that's right!!

the reasoning is (not) simple!! it is (not) straightforward, really!!

i was thinking that taka, the original person who played eigha, was probably the culprit... after all miwa had to rush the production on which caused him to be recast right at his final performance. pretty kuyashii. i assumed he snapped, or someone manipulated him, or what i originally assumed about eigha, a fictional character, becoming sentient. no such thing. when you think about it... there is no clearer red herring than this. i am almost certain that he'd be the first immediate suspect in com, as he is the only one who is immediately identifiable as someone with a motive, until you check miwa's phone records and see that he attempted to call someone at the time of his disappearance. it will be him!! i can bet money on this (don't actually come after me for this plz)

that is why i say there's no eigha in rosemaria, just someone playing the part.

here are some pointers about this "eigha"

it seems like at first, he is welcoming of the party, ushering them to the world, as if they were lost lambs... ones rejected by the real world.

eventually probably when it seems like they do not want to stay, and will take miwa back with them, its full mask off (hehe), suddenly its im gonna eliminate you guys to protect this world!!! and such, so he repeatedly attacks them.

but the main issue isn't that they rejected rosemaria. it's that when rui entered, he started to influence "dita" and attempt to extract him. he is his client after all even if he's confused. it means that someone is trying to make miwa leave rosemaria. at this point, there is no bargaining anymore. anyone who attempts to do this is getting BTFO'd.

so really, this eigha's goal is to protect miwa, not dita.

to wrap it back around the literary reference. the subtitle of cell of mirage is the picture of eigha iliner.

here comes the smoking gun. as you may recall miwa had posters of both the tv series and of the latest movie. of course it's different eighas. but the movie poster was strange. the movie poster that had harada shiharu's eigha was strange. ryuu made an observation i took a little too literally for a long time (because im a cute little dummy), until the other day:

according to ryuu's observation, this eigha looks older than the first one.

at any rate, there's no reason to doubt his point of view here. everything in the interlude is a clue put there for a purpose. so my assumption at first was, huh. is he older? is he just very ikemen or something? and was a little perplexed by it. but... this poster... which is in miwa's possession... in his bathroom... the eigha in it is aging!!! the harada shiharu in this poster is aging!!!! that's right!! they wouldn't hire someone that visibly looks older in a movie to replace someone when the movie has continuity with a tv show— and they would probably retouch the poster to hide imperfections (so signs of aging). it is... absolutely aging...

now if we recall back to the picture of dorian gray... dorian's portrait aged in his stead, absorbing all the sins he committed, as a result not only aging but also becoming more and more ugly. he would eventually go on to kill basil— who practically begged him to repent— over it in a fit of anger.

i do not need to tell you that wrath and violence is bad. so i believe that shiharu is the one that attacked miwa that night. but miwa is a fragment, he may have "died" then, but the injury was probably a trifle and he regenerated and maybe retaliated, and somehow the mirage phenomena was triggered as a result whether on purpose or not and both were transported. this is just in laconic really, there's definitely more to discuss about this but for this post this is the info i need. next post i will talk about this properly.

so they are both each other's dorians and basils in different ways. it is assured mutual destruction. also don't forget that ditasword ends with dita sacrificing himself to either kill or seal away eigha (iirc it doesn't say what exactly, but both of them are BTFO absolutely)

now this is going from speculation based on proof to fully filling in blanks that are undefined (so adjacent to fanfic really since there is little evidence) but, he may have confided in shiharu about being a fragment and possibly whatever bad things that came with it, and was wholeheartedly accepted by shiharu=miwa grew attached to him, and eventually when it felt appropriate to do so he told him that he will retire and go away forever. why tell him about his condition and not anyone else closer to him? idk, fragment interacting with a harada moment, lol.

so in this moment, if shiharu had become fiercely overprotective of him as a result to the point where he would attack him and whether on purpose or not get them both sent to rosemaria, if he would go to such an extreme... what would influence him?!! if he is the dorian in this interpretation, then he may have attempted to get answers from azuma, who is absolutely involved in like 20 things at once. like why is miwa retiring? where is he going? if he pointed him in a certain direction, like, "i know a way you can stop it[stop miwa from going away/keep protecting him]." or something like that. that is absolutely making him lord henry... in a very literal sense as he is clearly an antagonistic force who is using miwa and whoever else as pawns. though lord henry introduces dorian to indulgence and depravity just for the fuck of it, because he is a hedonist... much to think about.

conversely! the more apparent reading that comes from just guessing! miwa doesn't age by default so it superficially plays into some of the traits that dorian has, and shiharu who may be trying to protect him from the real world that hurt him, that rejected him[his fragment status], is basil. because remember, dita having pink hair and red eyes is normal in rosemaria. which means miwa is normal too. the real world is not as kind as rosemaria! or something. so i think this was miwa's dream initially (he may have even expressed this to shiharu without thinking) before he came to possibly change his mind as in the encrypted email azuma's assurance that it isn't solely his responsibility implies that miwa feels guilt over the mirage incidents = he is absolutely involved in a great capacity. imo, on top of all that, he may have also wanted to stay because he finally had someone who cared about him genuinely. too late for that, if he tried to talk sense into shiharu it didn't work, he is now in rosemaria with no sense of "miwa teita". it is not dissimilar to how dorian attacked and killed basil, hid his possessions and got someone to "disappear" the body. rui, who is trying to pry into the delusion of rosemaria to bring everyone— including miwa especially— back to the real world, is lord henry.

and these two readings coexist. they are not mutually exclusive. they build off of the exact same sentiment.

P.S. there are absolutely other combis that work with some precursory thought— but i wish there was more information out there...

P.S. P.S. woe upon thee!!!!!!!!